


three times Suna tells Osamu about things he loves, and the one time it’s him

by aiviloti



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 3+1, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, other charas like kita komori atsumu sakusa mentioned in passing, post ts, they are both stupid and oblivious what is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aiviloti/pseuds/aiviloti
Summary: “I’ll have whatever you make. I believe in you, chef.”Osamu’s ears turn pink, but only ever so slightly that Suna wonders if he’s imagined it. “Of course you would, I’m the only one who would cater to your nitpicky tastes.”“That’s a compliment, Osamu,” Suna flashes him a lazy grin. “It means I actually care about your interests and strengths.”And you too, he almost adds, but stops himself just in time.As the title suggests, three times Suna tells Osamu about things he loves, and the one time it’s him.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104
Collections: SunaOsa Valentine's Exchange





	three times Suna tells Osamu about things he loves, and the one time it’s him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winnie_nn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnie_nn/gifts).



> Henlo, [Wind](https://twitter.com/kcwindys) 😳 I hope you like it!!

one.

“You’re early,” is the first thing that Osamu tells Suna when he steps into Miya Onigiri. Slinging his bag over a chair by the counter, Suna allows himself to sink into the comfortable familiarity he’s been aching for all day.

“Yeah, they let us off practice earlier today. We weren’t doing the best — I think everyone’s extra jittery about the upcoming game season and today’s performance was exceptionally bad. If they didn’t let us go after the passive aggressive comments and heightened tension and all, I’m pretty sure Komori was ready to throw something.”

Osamu nods solemnly. “Day in the life,” he remarks.

“Same old, I guess. It’ll be fine tomorrow. Probably. We’ve been through this many times, we’ll get through it again. Anyway, enough about my day, how was yours? Anyone come to throw themselves at you?” Suna smirks.

Osamu gives him a dirty glance. “For the record, no. You’re the first asshole customer I’ve had today, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Touche,” he feigns an exaggerated heartbreaking moment. Though Osamu rolls his eyes, Suna doesn’t miss the fondness in them. “Am I even really a customer anyway? I’m not ordering anything.”

“Yeah, I should kick you out,” Osamu snorts. “Goodbye, you can either eat or leave.”

“Hey hey, this is how you’re going to treat your best friend? Who’s going to help you pull pranks on Atsumu if you ditch me?”

Osamu grimaces and Suna flashes him a grin, knowing he’s won. “Fine.”

The shop is quiet at this awkward hour, where it’s too far away from dinner, but not close enough to be closing. Swinging around at this time tends to fare well for Suna, who is admittedly here more for Osamu’s attention than he is for the onigiri, although only by the smallest margin.

Time slips by as they chatter about their day, and it isn’t until Osamu brings it up much later that Suna forgot he was supposed to be here for dinner, kind of. “Hey, are you really not gonna order anything?” Osamu asks quizzically. “I thought you hadn’t eaten anything before coming here.”

“Oh,” Suna simply says. “I forgot.”

“An athlete. Forgetting his hunger. How likely.”

“Shut up,” he snorts. “But yeah, I do want something. I’ll have whatever you make. I believe in you, chef.”

Osamu’s ears turn pink, but only ever so slightly that Suna wonders if he’s imagined it. “Of course you would, I’m the only one who would cater to your nitpicky tastes.”

“That’s a compliment, Osamu,” Suna flashes him a lazy grin. “It means I actually care about your interests and strengths.”

 _And you too_ , he almost adds, but stops himself just in time.

Although Osamu grumbles, his hands start to work, making one onigiri, then another. Suna watches him at work quietly, taking it all in. When he puts the filling in, he makes a deliberate attempt to hide it away from Suna, refusing to let him see what’s going on. “It’s a surprise,” Osamu argues. “It wouldn’t be one if I told you what it was.”

“You are trying to poison me. And there will be no witnesses to attest to this. I’m going to die in your shop because I gave you my trust and you used that trust to spike my onigiri, and there will be nothing I can do about it.”

Osamu scoffs. “Must you be so unnecessarily sarcastic?”

“I must. Besides, you love it,” he says, cheerfully watching Osamu from behind, just in time to see Osamu freeze. And there it is again, the faint blush on the tip of his ears that is now unmistakably there. From here, Suna yearns to believe that it is more than what it is on the surface, but he quickly chides himself into banishing the thought.

How dare he dare to yearn, anyway.

“Ooo, flustered, are we now?” he quickly says, hoping to cover his mistake with lighthearted teasing like he always has.

“Uh huh,” Osamu says, and whatever that was there is now gone. Suna is a little sorry to see it go, but he firmly reminds himself that it’s for the best. Osamu puts a plate of onigiri before him. They look perfectly normal, but knowing Osamu, Suna wouldn’t be so sure.

He bites into it and the flavour fills his taste buds. 

“Mmm, bonito flakes,” he remarks. 

“Yeah, and?”

“Eggs. Spring onions.”

A grin splits Osamu’s face. “Nice. What’s the verdict?”

“You know I would love anything if it’s made by you.”

Making his way home later on, Suna wonders if he’s actually doing the two of them more good or bad by hanging on like this, knowing full well that this is all they have ever been, and all that they will be.

_You’ve been letting yourself do as you will since high school, knowing full well that you’ve fallen for someone who’d possibly never love you back. Why are you torturing yourself by indulging in all of this, allowing yourself to sink further?_

Suna wishes he has the answer to this all, but alas, all he has is the knowledge that he’s been through this dilemma many times, and tomorrow once more, he will still find himself in Miya Onigiri, basking in the company of people he can’t have.

* * *

two.

“Nice flowers,” Suna chirps, swinging into Osamu’s shop, immediately baffled by the sight. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but Suna’s sure it isn’t the knit in the eyebrows, hardness pressed into lips.

“Wow,” Osamu begins, and the sarcasm almost makes Suna flinch. “No hello, no greeting, only ‘nice flowers’. Good evening to you too, Sunarin,” he huffs.

Suna blinks at Osamu, once, twice. Taking a seat, Suna awkwardly asks, “Yo, who hurt you? You aren’t usually this grouchy, much less when I’m actually complimenting your abysmal sense in decor.”

He watches Osamu visibly tense, then slowly sigh. He shakes his head. “No, you’re right, it’s been a long day.”

Suna nods empathetically. “Asshole customers?”

Osamu doesn’t seem to appreciate his comment. “You realise being in the service industry doesn’t mean our every problem stems from asshole customers, right? Besides, my customers are either busy business people who can’t spare me the time of their day, or just friendly neighbourhood elderly women.”

“Uh huh.”

“They all adore me, Rin,” Osamu deadpans. “I’m very charismatic.”

“So what pissed you off, Mr I’m-very-Charismatic?”

Here, Osamu deflates a little more. “Long day. Didn’t sleep well, alarm didn’t go off, Atsumu called at lunch to bitch about something, got some orders wrong today. A string of minor inconveniences can be lethal when accumulated. You just happened to be the last straw.”

Suna only stares at him, still confused. “Because I complimented your flowers?”

Osamu gives him a groan in response. “It’s not about the flowers, god. I don’t know, I was just looking forward to having you come visit.” Then, in a low voice, he continues, “like a highlight of the day or something.”

At this, Suna chuckles. “I come here to bug you practically everyday, Osamu. I didn’t realise it was worth looking forward to or I would be nicer to you. Probably.”

“Shut up,” Osamu gloomily replies. “I just wanna call it a day already but the shop doesn’t close until much later.”

Scanning their surroundings, Suna establishes that customers are indeed as expected, sparse. Most of them are finishing up by the time he arrives. This gives him a thought.

“Hey, you are literally the only person in charge here. You could close shop.”

Osamu raises an eyebrow. “That’s it? That’s your impressive remedy for my predicament?”

“You work too hard, Osamu. A break would never hurt, and much less you of all people. You have nothing to lose. Just put up a sign saying you’re closed for the day and then take flight.”

“Take flight,” he muses. “You’ve been hanging around too many volleyball people,” Osamu jabs, but he doesn’t try to hide the way his lips quirk up at the thought. His eyes have brightened too.

“Shhhh, you know _you’re_ my favourite volleyball person, ex-volleyball person, whatever. Now do you wanna ditch the busy entrepreneur business for one night and go cut yourself some slack?”

“This feels like a roundabout ploy for you to ask me out on a date, Suna, but I’m not going to say no. Maybe you do have some decent ideas. Sometimes.”

“Make that all the time, my friend.” Suna gives him a sly grin. “Let’s go.”

Walking around the city aimlessly after you passive aggressively usher the remaining customers out of the restaurant of your best friend sounds as uneventful as it gets, especially for a place that has practically gone into slumber after 10pm, but skirting the streets of the city with Osamu, Suna feels like this is all he could ever want in life. The only lights to be seen are the warm glow of the bars that open far into the night, and the occasional headlamp of an approaching car.

They lean on the railing of a flyover bridge that overlooks the roads when Suna eventually asks. “Why’d you get flowers?”

“Why are you so hung up about the flowers, it’s spring — there are literally flowers blooming everywhere now.”

Suna shrugs. “I associate sentimentality with them. Like, if you care enough to put up flowers in a place where you always hang around, like your workplace, it adds a quaint sense of comfort to it. I like them. Didn’t expect it from you, is all.”

Osamu mulls this over. “They brighten the place a little. Figured since I was having such a crappy day, might as well find something to make it a little less horrible and all, like you said. They were bouquets though, did you just like the entire thing or?”

“Oh,” Suna gives this some thought. “I don’t know enough about flowers to know their names and what they represent. I just think they’re pretty. I think the ones with the white petals and a yellow center is nice.”

“Those are daisies. They’re supposed to mean faith. Was vibing with it today because I needed faith for better times to come.”

“Hey, Osamu?”

“What?”

“You really are going soft in your old age,” he replies solemnly.

Here, Suna watches in delight as Osamu goes through a series of expressions, confusion, realisation, embarrassment, the anger, in that order. “I will end you, Rin.”

“You would never, you enjoy my company too much,” he retorts with an amused look. But inside, as he considers the implications, it turns his heart into liquid.

***

See, it doesn’t occur to Suna till much, _much_ later, than Osamu had called this a date without thought.

* * *

three.

“We are going to win this season,” Suna tells Osamu one night at Miya Onigiri with feeling, and Osamu lets him.

“Sure you will,” he hums.

“We are going to make so many perfect blocks and perfect serves and perfect spikes and then we are going to win the whole championship.”

“Don’t let Tsumu catch you saying that.”

Suna expects to find himself worn out from the practice after the last session before the season officially begins, but after he finishes practice, his footsteps lead him to Osamu’s restaurant out of habit. Finding a place for himself in his regular seat, he tells Osamu about the day as he watches him at work, hands busy pressing onigiris into shape.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying all of this actually, EJP Raijin, everything,” Osamu beams. “I remember you being hesitant if it was actually going to work out, but seems like you worried for nothing.”

Suna raises his arms and stretches. “Mmm, yeah, maybe. They’re a pain actually. Moreso after you get to know them. But yeah, they’re a loud and chaotic bunch and it makes them easy to hand around. It feels comfortable, y’know? Like they aren’t overly serious about things on the surface, but when you watch everyone do their thing you know what kind of skill that lightheartedness covers.”

“Mmmm, Suna Rintarou, making actual friendships? Forging meaningful bonds? What a delightful surprise to hear,” Osamu drawls, deftly dodging the punch that Suna swings at him from across the counter. “Kita-san would be so proud of you.”

“Oh shut up, you. You know I’ve never been the insufferable one who had problems making friends. That’s always been Atsumu. You should see people like Komori. It’s practically impossible to not get along with him, no matter who you are. I think he’s managed to even befriend Ushijima of the Adlers.”

“Don’t forget the rest of your old friends when you’re all famous and some hotshot national team volleyball player.”

“Oh, no guarantees.” Suna puts on an exaggerated troubled expression. “You’ll have to be my anchor. If you see fame has turned me evil, I’ll be counting on you to have me slain and put to rest.”

Osamu seems amused by this. It makes Suna’s heart skip a beat, knowing he was the one who this smile is reserved for. “Pft, unnecessarily and insufferably sarcastic as always.” Osamu says, rolling his eyes. “Perhaps some things will never change.”

“It’s okay,” Suna reassures. “If you keep serving good food I’ll be sure to remember you.”

“If you ever suggest my food is anything other than good you will never eat it again.”

“Are you threatening me, Miya Osamu,” Suna mocks.

“Yes.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment too long, and silence falls. Suna wonders what it’d be like to cross these few inches between them and press a kiss to Osamu’s lips, but he forces himself to tear his eyes away before he does anything regrettably stupid and insane.

It _is_ the game season after all, any emotional baggage can come after that. Here, Suna already knows he’s made up his mind.

“Hey, Osamu,” Suna calls out, gentler than he’d intended for it to be.

“Yeah?”

“If we win, I have something to tell you.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Oh,” Suna says, resolve steeling, “We will. Don’t you worry. Till then, wait for me.”

* * *

and one, again.

“Hello Osamuuuuu,” is what Suna singsongs as he sashays into Miya Onigiri as promised. “I’m greeting you properly so you don’t throw a fit like the time you did with the flowers.” Osamu rolls his eyes at him, and he continues, “you keep doing that, stop.”

“Man, you sure can hold a grudge,” he mutters, rolling his eyes again from behind the counter presumably out of spite. Suna only laughs. “Good evening to you too.”

“Did you see our last game?”

“Yeah, I knew I was going to have a hard time no matter which team won — either you or Tsumu was going to come bitch at me about it so I had to watch.”

“Oh shush, you enjoy volleyball as much as we do.” Suna attempts to shove Osamu, but he agily dodges away. 

Osamu laughs, eyes shining. “You did well. I’m proud of you. Atsumu was _pissed_ , but in a really fired kind of way. He said he was going to obliterate you guys next time.” As they talk about the game, Osamu leaves the counter and makes his way over to sit by Suna.

“Yeah man! I heard from Komori that Sakusa was seething about it too. It’s great.”

He watches Osamu’s gaze soften. “Hey, what was it that you were going to tell me when you won the game?” The way he looks at Suna makes him feel cornered, like Osamu’s already had him figured out.

“Oh,” Suna simply says, throat drying up.

He knows what he promised, and he knows what he wanted to say to return a peace of mind to himself. But here, directly confronted by Osamu, Suna is only more aware than ever how much weight a confession would be and how he might be throwing away everything he’s known just for this to go through. This could be the end of everything. It might be the last time he stands here in Miya Onigiri, comfortably enjoying the company of the person who’s been his source of comfort and familiarity and hope and everything he’d want to live for since high school.

“Oh,” he repeats again, not sure how to begin.

“Are you going to actually say anything, because if you’re not I actually have something I wanted to say and once I begin you can’t interrupt me,” Osamu breathes, more cautious than Suna’s ever seen him.

Suna wants to say something in response, but no words come out when he opens his mouth. He closes them, and Osamu takes it as an invitation to speak. 

“Suna Rintarou, I am so in love with you I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Suna is pretty sure he’s going to die on the spot from how fast his heart is going.

“What the fu-”

“Shut up, I said you weren’t allowed to interrupt me,” Osamu scowls, and Suna obliges. He sighs, then continues. Suna can see him shaking a little.

“I enjoy your company more than I do anyone else’s, and I know this is so greedy of me, but the fact that you’re making time just to hang around here so much just makes me ache for more.” His voice is now reduced to a low, steady rumble. There’s no zeal or anxiety in Osamu’s expression, and Suna is entranced. “I’ve always enjoyed your snide remarks that you make, your ability to paint even the worst of the worst in a sarcastic but light-hearted shade. I remember what you said about Komori, something about how it’s impossible to not be friends with someone like him? With you, it feels like it’s impossible to not want to bask in your presence forever, and see this world as you perceive it, just an endless string of fun and wild rides.”

Osamu takes a deep breath, then continues. “I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I’ve been aching to tell you this for so long, that it would feel like a betrayal to keep you in the dark when what I feel for you is anything but platonic. But here, Suna, I just want you to know that I will continue to be whatever it is you want me to be, as long as it makes you happy. I’m someone who’s in love with you, but before that, I’m your best friend. You don’t have to accept all of this or anything, I just want you to know, so we can move on and-” 

Osamu’s voice cracks, even if only a little, and Suna’s mind goes blank. _Oh, fuck it_ , he thinks, not bothering to hesitate when he kisses him. 

“God, you _idiot_ ,” Suna murmurs. “I’ve loved you for so, _so_ long, never believing you could love me back, and now you tell me all of that. How am I supposed to top any of that?”

Osamu looks bewildered, like he hadn’t expected any of this at all. Suna doesn’t blame him. Slowly, his expression morphs into fondness, and Suna already knows he’s not going to survive any of this if they go on to be a frequent occurrence.

“You, what? Really?”

“Yeah, god,” Suna groans. “That’s what I’ve been working up my nerve to tell you all this while and I can’t believe you beat me to it. And you weren’t even going to reject me. God. God god god.”

He buries his face in his hands, but Osamu draws him in for a hug.

“You are as amazing as it gets, you know that, right?” Osamu asks, eyes sparkling. “You don’t have to top that or whatever, you just have to be you.”

Somehow, Suna believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it wind!!!! It was pleasure working on the prompts waaaaa thank you for the chance!!!
> 
> And to everyone!! This is my first Sunaosa work ever and I realise I love them a lot, and man, wild ride. Thank you for reading this!!
> 
> Kudos and the like are always appreciated, but if this made you smile, if even a little, my job is done. You can find me here at [tumblr](https://aiviloti.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/aiviloti)! I hope this is a fun read for you too!! Have a good one :)


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